Thicker Than Blood
by RemainSilent1
Summary: Mariku is a ruthless ruler in India, where his half-brother Malik lives as part of his harem. Bakura and Ryou are brothers, who rule an area in China. The two try to infiltrate and destroy Mariku's regime. M/M, rape, yaoi, anal, torture. YMxM YBxM YMxR AU
1. Chapter 1

Mariku is the ruthless ruler of a province in India. Because of his greed and hate, he has made Malik, his half-brother, into a slave, whom he tortures at every chance he gets.

This chapter is just an introduction to the story. This chapter contains m/m, rape, anal, etc. The pairing is YMxM. Later pairings will include MxYB, and YMxR. A further explanation of the plot will be available the next chapter, but enjoy the lemon this chapter!

I do not own YGO or any of its characters. If I did, there would be no talks of friendship, and there would be a lot more torture.

* * *

Malik silently trudged down the dimly lit hallway to his master's chambers. His bronze face was illuminated by the thin candles that lined the halls, his violet eyes sparkling like diamonds and amethyst, a site not commonly seen in the dark-eyed world. But no one saw the eyes of the young boy, for his face was covered in sheer garments, creating the illusion that the irises were of a different color.

The hallway ended with a door of great grandeur. Rubies, emeralds, and other precious stone were placed into the exquisite design of the wood, placed to look like orchids and lily flowers. Malik's tan hands tentatively traced the floral patterns before finally pulling open the door. Malik's violet eyes dropped down to his feet as he stood still in the entranceway.

"Come to me." an authoritative voice called to Malik, whispered hints of desire, lust, and anger were present in the person speaking.

Malik lifted his eyes ever so slightly to view to scene in front of him. The room he was walking into was even more ornate than the entranceway he just passed. Large ivory statues of elephants, tigers, and lions, were scattered across the room. The statues were impressively carved, with great care found in the detail, but the statues were no where near as impressive as the large bed that sat in the center of the room. Pillowed steps led to the bed that was raised an extra two feet from the ground. The bed itself was a large canopy bed, vibrantly colored with reds, greens, yellows, and oranges. The occasional sapphire was placed here or there, but the color scheme was similar to the foliage that grew outside the walls.

Below the bed were two steaming pools of water, each placed on either side of the masterpiece. The water was filled with rose and lily petals, perfuming the air. But the sight that stood out the most, more than the furniture, the statues, or the pools, was the tan man seated next to the pool, dipping his toes in the water. He was dressed in a fine silk tunic, that was of a lavender color accented with gold threading. Bright jewels of gold and silver adorned his neck and arms, showing off his obvious high class. There was no question that this man was handsome, un-ordinarily handsome. His head was donned with light colored hair, which unruly and spiked, but fell handsomely down his shoulders. His eyes were also of violet, sparkling like diamonds. In all essence, this man was an older, much more masculine version of the young Malik who had just entered the chamber. But unlike Malik, his face was devoid of innocence and uncertainty.

"Come here" the voice of the man called out again to Malik.

Malik shivered and walked to the left of the man, before falling upon his knees.

"Master Mariku", Malik whispered in a submissive voice.

"Tell me slave, why is today a good day?" Mariku asked, placing his feet fully into the steaming water.

"I do not know sire." Malik answered, his voice hinted a tint of annoyance for the teen did not enjoy these kind of games.

"You should know slave Malik." Mariku responded, raising a blonde eyebrow at the submissively postured teen seated next to him, "For are we not one in the same, you and I?"

Malik glanced up, a bewildered look grew quickly upon his face. Malik's lips remained tightly shut, his face screwed up in confusion.

Mariku continued, "Yes, for did you not say once that we are the same, and we should treat each other as such? But that was before you learned your place. I believe Isis was telling you those whimsical little tales, the one about family and some shit like that."

Mariku grinned at Malik before returning to his little speech. "Yes, and that when we had to get rid of Isis. You cried terribly when she married some man that lived so very far from the northern province of India. Eleven years old, and crying like a woman." Mariku snickered, pushing some golden strands of hair out of his face.

"Do you now know why today is a good day slave?" Mariku hissed into Malik's ear, wrapping an arm possessively over the teens bare shoulders.

"Yes." Malik answered, remembering the torturous events that had taken place those six years ago that turned Malik into the wanton being, and Mariku into the devilish fiend.

"I finally marked you as my own, didn't I?" Mariku continued to his, running his fingers up and down Malik's back. "The mark and reminder that you belong to me and me alone. Showing that we are not brothers or family, or even distant relatives of any sort. For you are my slave, and I am your master."

Mariku paused and began scraping his nails down the carvings shown on Malik's back, causing the teen to wince in pain. "And yet. Yet we are one in the same. We are at a balance you and I. We are the same person, I just take the better parts, and leave you with the less desirable ones. But we complete each other. Well I suppose I complete you more. I am the greater, I am the god. You are just the slave, the pet, the undesired."

Mariku stopped and laughed loudly, his finger-nails digging into Malik's skin, allowing blood to pool out of the freshly made wounds.

"Tell me slave. Do you understand what I say to you? Or will you defy my words in an attempt to hope that they will fail?"

Malik shook his head. He was already wincing in pain from the cutting of his already sensitive back, he could not imagine the pain that would be brought if he ever defied Mariku.

"Good." Mariku breathed, unbuttoning the top of his tunic. "Tonight is all about you slave. In remembrance of everything that has happened, and in hope," Mariku paused as he pulled off his silk tunic, showing off his perfectly sculpted chest, and muscular arms, "...that you have learned from your mistakes slave."

Malik nodded slowly, glancing up at Mariku. He knew the procedure, he knew it like the back of his hand. He removed the gold bands from his wrists and ankles and placed them on the tiled floor. He had no need to strip himself of clothing, for he had arrived in only a meter long cloth that he wrapped around his waist like a skirt.

Mariku stepped up out of the water and climbed the steps to his bed, pulling off the large trinkets and pieces of gold and silver, that would surely get in the way of their 'activities'.

"Come slave." Mariku called as he sat upon the thick polychromatic cushions on his bed, sitting in only his dhoti*.

Malik walked up to the bed, his head bowed with his golden locks falling into his face. He climbed onto the bed, his petite frame trembling slightly as he was pulled into Mariku's lap. Mariku snatched a long cotton cloth, and grabbed Malik's hands, tying them tightly together behind his back. Mariku quickly flipped Malik around, forcing the teen on his knees in front of his master. Mariku shed the rest of his garments, sporting a partially erected cock.

Malik bent over, knowing what to do. He took the other's member into his mouth, licking and sucking the tip playfully. Mariku groaned, and wrapped his fingers in the teen's blonde hair, tugging at the strands slightly.

Malik continued, nibbling up and down the penis before licking the sensitive underside. His mind screamed in protest to the disgusting act that Malik was performing, but the teen continued. His head was pushed down farther on the cock until the entire piece of flesh was inside of his mouth, and hitting the back of his throat. Malik gagged slightly, but he swallowed the flesh, humming and sucking around it.

Mariku moaned loudly at the sensation, his fingers tightly entangled in the teen's golden locks. He thrust up into Malik's mouth, the sensation becoming overwhelming.

Malik continued with the pleasuring of Mariku's pulsating member. Regaining his senses, Mariku pulled Malik's head off of his throbbing member, and pushed Malik on his stomach, his arse high in the air. Mariku grinned, and pulled the clothing off of Malik, smirking at his bare arse. Despite the fact his cock was throbbing in need, Mariku decided to have a little fun with his slave. Pulling apart the cheeks, Mariku flicked Malik's entrance with his finger, enjoying the whimpering noise that Malik let out.

It wasn't always painful for Malik, Mariku always stretched and prepared his slave for the act. But the initial touch always frightened him, and pained him greatly. He was quite sensitive there, actually anywhere from the tip of his spine to his ass. It was probably the fault of the scars, the knife must have hit a point on his back creating the oversensitive problem. But there was nothing that Malik could do now except lay on his stomach with his arse in the air, and his hands twisted painfully behind him. This was the life of the pleasure slave, he had accepted his fate.

But Mariku's fingers left Malik's entrance, much to the teens surprise. But the act was followed by a severe slap to his arse, leaving red handprints on the cheeks. The painful slaps continued, one after another. Malik's eyes were tearing up in agony, wishing for the torment to end. But it did not end, even as Mariku's own hand was bright red and stinging terribly.

Mariku just grinned in pleasure as he saw the anguish that he was bringing the boy under him. His slave deserved it. He needed to be punished, for... for whatever he did. Perhaps Mariku was punishing Malik for his past. Or perhaps it was just that Mariku enjoyed being a sadist, because his member was growing impossibly hard with the pain that he was inflicting on the teen. What other kind of pain could Mariku inflict on Malik?

Mariku grinned and stopped, much to Malik's relief. But the relief was short lived as Mariku sat up upon his knees and rammed his length into Malik.

Malik threw his head back and screamed in pain. Mariku had never pushed into him unprepared, or without some sort of lubricant. But it was apparent Mariku didn't care. He closed his eyes, and moaned in pleasure. He continued to thrust into Malik at a frenzied rate, ignoring the fact that he had ripped open Malik's hole, and blood was pooling out of his entrance. He just enjoyed the feeling of the blood lubricating his cock as he slid in and out more freely.

Malik cried and screamed, his face being pushed harshly into the bed's cushions. Mariku grabbed his slaves hips in a bruising grip and continued to push into him. He could care less that Malik was experiencing only the worst form of pain as his impressive length filled up the teen's body. He could only notice the pleasurable ecstacy that filled his core.

Mariku flipped Malik over, so that Malik was laying on his back. Mariku's pleasure wildly increased as he saw the pained look on Malik's face.

Mariku bent over Malik, still thrusting in at a frenzied pace, and bit the slaves collarbone multiple times, leaving bleeding bite marks and malformed hickies. Malik continued to cry, as Mariku finished thrusting into him, and releasing his seed into the teen's body. Mariku moaned, his eyes hazed over with orgasmic pleasure.

But Mariku wasn't finished. He rubbed his flaccid penis with the crimson blood until it stood erect again. He grabbed Malik's hips again, and rocked into the teen's body again and again.

Malik lost count of how many times Mariku released into him, he didn't even notice when Mariku finally gave him some sort of pleasure, forcing Malik's body to orgasm. It was just pain, just sharp, terrible anguish.

There were no other words to describe it. Malik was just numb with the anguish and torment his body was put through.

After what seemed like forever, Mariku pulled out of the trembling teen, a thick sheen of sweat formed upon his brow, and where the bodies slapped together in the act. The smell of sweat, blood, and sex filled the air, hanging like a cloud over the two bodies. Mariku laid down next to his slave and smiled psychotically. That was probably one of the few best nights of sex that he had ever had. How he wished it didn't have to end. But he was human, and despite being physically fit, he was unable to do much more.

Perhaps they would have more fun in the morning.

* * *

*A cloth wrapped around the legs, fashioned like pants.

Please rate and review! Reviews are amazing, and help me to write faster. You don't even need an account to review, just leave a random name and say something about this story (it can even be a smiley face or a critique I don't care).

RemainSilent1


	2. Chapter 2

Mariku is the ruthless ruler of a small province in India. Because of his greed and hate, he has made Malik, his half-brother, into a slave, whom he tortures at every chance he gets. AU

This chapter contains m/m, rape, anal, etc. The pairing is YMxM. Later pairings will include MxYB, and YMxR.

I do not own YGO or any of its characters. If I did, there would be no talks of friendship, and there would be a lot more torture.

* * *

"Do you honestly wish to go through with this?"

"Of course, what other choice do we have?"

"We have plenty of options..."

"Well, what ones have not failed?"

The younger Tozokou brother looked up and smiled, pushing his white locks out of his wide eyes. The elder brother glanced down at his hands, taking note on how especially white his skin was before speaking.

"Well they may have failed before. But this might be going to far Ryou. Your the only person in the world I worry about getting hurt. The only person Ryou."

Ryou gave his brother a cheery smile, and batted his long black lashes. "Come on Bakura, I am capable of doing this. You know that."

"I being serious Ryou!" Bakura yelled, frustration and anger lining his voice. "Do even know what you are getting yourself into?!"

"Why yes dearest brother." Ryou replied as he dusted off his royal blue coat, "Do you think I would have agreed to this if I did not know?" Ryou continued to adjust his velvet suit, gazing at his brother with an innocent, yet confident stare.

Bakura opened his mouth to retort to Ryou's remark, but no sound left his pale pink lips. The room fell quickly silent, except for the occasional crackling coming from the cheery fire in the corner. The two pairs of umber eyes stared at each other, the gaze locked and unwavering.

Bakura finally looked away, giving into defeat. Ryou was more stubborn than anyone he knew, especially when he became involved in something.

But this was different. Bakura's eyes swept over Ryou's lean figure, his snowy white hair falling gracefully around his shoulders. There was no doubt that Ryou was a beautiful creature, even calling him an angel would be an understatement. Ryou epitomized everything that Bakura did not, and lacked nearly everything that Bakura had. Bakura was strong, masculine, and sexy (that being his own opinion, and perhaps the opinion of nearly all who saw him); but Ryou was weak, effeminate, and beautiful.

Ryou was like a perfect angel. But since Bakura was his brother's opposite, did that make him a devil?

"Do you understand Bakura?" Ryou asked timidly, grasping his brother's hand with his own. "Don't you realize that I have to do this?"

Bakura sighed, and ruffled his younger sibling's hair. "I suppose... But that does not mean I am still ready to go through with this plan. Honestly, I wish I was chosen for this mission rather than you."

Ryou giggled, "But you would never be able to handle it without causing serious harm on the other party. And plus you don't have the looks."

"What, do you think I am ugly?!" Bakura scowled, as he scanned the walls for a mirror. Finding none, the elder Tozokou brother looked back at his brother.

"No Bakura, I never said you were ugly." Ryou replied, sweeping his silky hair behind his ear, a small smile graced his lips.

Bakura continued to scowl, his dexterous fingers traveling across his face, trying to find out what made him so 'distasteful'.

Ryou continued to smile, and grasped both of his brother's hands within his own, "You are incredibly vain brother, did you know that?"

Bakura frowned and a low growl emitted from his throat. "I am not vain, I just like to look good." he argued, pulling his hands away from the younger Tozokou.

"No, you definitely are vain."

"AM NOT!"

"Are too!"

"AM NOT!"

"Are too!"

The simple argument continued for five minutes, neither of the two getting anywhere.

"Bakura please." Ryou asked, finally giving up on the petty fight, "We cannot argue right now, there are much more important things that need to be discussed!"

Bakura sighed and walked over an armchair that was placed conveniently in front of the fire. Ryou followed him, and took a seat on the vintage sofa, that was adjacent to to the arm chair.

"You have wanted to conquer this area for a long while" Ryou started, gazing into the dancing yellows, reds, and blues that made up the crackling fire.

"Obviously Ryou" the elder brother interjected "It was our father's goal, it was his father's goal, and now it is my own goal. Plus with us being hired to do away with this horrendous regime, my desire has been fueled to its highest amount. But..." Bakura paused, lifting a hand to stroke Ryou's hair.

"But you wish that I was not involved in this." Ryou finished for Bakura. "I may look more feminine than most males, and you are my older brother and want to protect me... But I can fend for myself Bakura, I may not look strong, but I am. You know that. And plus, this needs to be done, some of my self dignity can be sacrificed in order to better mankind."

"I don't just want to protect you Ryou, I have to protect you..." Bakura muttered, his voice wavering slightly, quite uncharacteristic for the normally stoic male. Bakura rarely showed emotion throughout his life. It was probably due to the vast amount of responsibility placed on him at a young age, perhaps his upbringing could also be blamed.

But this task that the two brothers were expected to complete. It was no ordinary task. It would require all their skills and influence to even make a minor break in the system. Any errors would be suicidal, probably worse than suicidal. It would result in the end of the brother's lives as well as the end of thousands of other people.

"But it needs to be done." Ryou stated, staring at his brother in a quite serious fashion.

"It is going to hurt."

"I've done that part before. I'm prepared."

"... It won't be the same. It won't have the same, 'loving' gestures."

"I can handle it."

"You are not going to be able to object to anything."

"I'm good at hiding, I won't have to deal with it a lot. Once or twice at the most."

"You can't make any mistakes."

"Have I ever made any mistakes Bakura?"

"....No..."

Ryou grinned, and lifted himself off the sofa. The angelic teen bent over and kissed his elder brother swiftly on his pale cheek.

"So its settled."

Bakura nodded silently, afraid that his voice would give away his true worry and concern. Ryou twisted around and quickly paced to the large French doors that stood on the opposite side of the room.

"Ryou." Bakura mumbled, looking back at his brother.

"Yes?" Ryou twirled around, his pale face contrasting greatly against his velvet blue jacket.

The elder male leered, a small fang seen in his partial grin, "So who was it?"

Ryou blushed, his his chocolate brown eyes widening in embarrassment. "W-what?" his voice quivered.

"You said you've done it before. So who was it?"

"Otogi." Ryou mumbled, his face redder than a ripe tomato.

Bakura stared at Ryou before chuckling. "I commend you Ryou. I really commend you for that."

As soon as Ryou left the room, Bakura shook his head in distress. "Getting one of the most handsome men was probably always his dream... Or at least one of his dreams" Bakura mused, " And now he is going to do this...."

* * *

"SMACK!"

Malik quickly awoke to a sharp slap to his arse. His violet eyes shot open, as he quickly flipped over on his master's bed.

"No..." Malik thought, realizing that he was still in his master's chambers, the polychromatic colors blinding his sensitive eyes.

No... he was supposed to be in the slave quarters. Someone was supposed to take him there every night. His face was also supposed to be hidden from view during the daylight hours. But he was utterly naked, and left to the mercy of his master....

Mariku's eyes sparked with psychotic wonder. Rarely did his slave remain in his threshold after their activities from the night before. But he had personally seen to it that Malik remained upon his bed till the morning.

He always loved the fear that would flash through Malik's eyes. The pleasure of just seeing the slave's violet eyes contract and constrict in fright, was like a power surge through his veins. His adrenaline rushed through each muscle, which made him feel stronger and more superior than ever before.

His hands rubbed Malik's bare rump, grinning at the way the muscle twitched in pain. The way skin was spotted with purple handprints.

Malik quivered under the touch, whimpering slightly as a slightly nasty bruise was pressed upon. But he couldn't protest, protesting would just harbor in an even worse punishment... But what could be worse than what happened to him last night?

Mariku pounced on top of the poor slave, answering Malik's question.

What could be worse than what happened last night? Happening again in the morning.

Mariku bent over Malik's trembling body, his lips caressing the outer-rim of the slave's ear. "Did we enjoy ourselves last night?" Mariku purred into Malik's ear.

Malik remained silent, for the question was confusing. Of course he did not enjoy himself, but he was sure his master did, he was positive his master did. But... in his position as a slave, did he have the right to tell his master the truth, or give him the answer was confusing.

Mariku could sense the confusion that was plaguing his slave's mind. He did not truly care if Malik answered or not, he just enjoyed to see that he could affect his slave's mental psyche as well as his physical body. But the silence frustrated him. He liked noise to come out of his slave, to make sure that the petite body beneath him was still living. The master buried his face in the soft golden hair of his slave, tearing at the roots of the locks.

Malik whimpered much to Mariku's delight. He always had a sensitive scalp, and just the simple pulling of his hair was quite painful.

"No comments to my question slave?" Mariku asked, his voice slightly muffled by his slave's hair.

"N-none master." Malik responded quietly, his voice quivering in fear.

"Fine then slave." Mariku rolled off of the younger one's body, laying beside him on the luxurious canopy bed. His eyes traveled down the body of his slave. Despite all the beatings, bruises, and countless nights of sex, his slave still looked as beautiful as the day that he had first seen him. So pure, untainted... Just the thought brought shivers through Mariku's veins. The hate and desire that caused him to want to taint the younger one worked quite well. But he still wanted more. He wanted Malik out of his sight, but at the same time he wanted to hold him closely to show that no one else could take the slave away from him.

Ahh, the conundrum that plagued Mariku's thoughts. He laid back on the feather filled pillows and sighed.

"Please me slave." Mariku ordered sternly, his plum colored eyes bordering on the edge of crimson.

Malik looked up at his master, the terrors of last night replaying in his mind.

"I.. uh, what would you like me to do m-master?" he stuttered, sitting up upon his knees, despite the severe amount of pain that shot through his lower back.

"Put on a show for me. Pleasure and prepare yourself for me."

Malik whimpered, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes as he brought his hands to his shoulders. the thin digits caressing the tan skin. His right hand moved lower to his stomach, while his left fell to his nipples. His right hand drew circles around his belly button, the left rubbing his nipples till they perked and hardened.

Malik's ministrations always drove Mariku to the brink of sanity. And today was no different, only a few minutes had passed and Mariku was already sporting a half-risen erection. As soon as Malik's hands reached his own limp member, coaxing it to life, Mariku was nearly ready to explode. Malik's digits were barely able to reach his extremely sore entrance, and stretch the already torn flesh before Mariku grabbed him from behind and began grinding his hard cock against the slave's lower back.

Mariku pushed the slave over, and thrust quickly into Malik's entrance, the teen screaming out in anguish and Mariku moaning in delight.

Mariku gave into his animalistic urges, and with a short growl he began thrusting erratically into the tight hole.

Malik choked back tears as his abused body was thrust into. The old wounds inside him opened back up and blood began lubricating Mariku's member.

It only took minutes for Mariku to reach his climax, the feeling of pleasure so overwhelming that he wanted more. After a couple hard thrusts, and the sound of his slave whimpering in anguish, Mariku exploded into Malik. Mariku fell on top of Malik, still within the teen's trembling body.

"So good." Was the last thing Malik heard before collapsing under Mariku and passing out from pain and exhaustion.

* * *

Another chapter finished. Please R&R.

Can you guess what Ryou wants to do? Well if you can't, it will be apparent next chapter. I have nothing else to say right now surprisingly about this, except to ask once again for you to review. So many people read this story, and I only get a handful of reviews. And to those who reviewed, thanks so much. It really helps inspire me, and tells me if this story is actually interesting to others.

RemainSilent1


	3. Chapter 3

Another chapter. You should know the story by now, but I'll post a generic description anyway

Mariku is the ruthless ruler of a small province in India. Because of his greed and hate, he has made Malik, his half-brother, into a slave, whom he tortures at every chance he gets. Bakura and Ryou are trying to stop the terrible regime, resorting to the some of the worst possible options.

Disclaimer: Is it not obvious I don't own YGO? Hello I barely have any money, I am not Japanese or Chinese or something -ese. (I think the blonde hair and blue eyes should give that much away) and oh yeah, I'm not a man (which I believe owns the YGO rights right now, or

"the man" ).

Warning: mention of rape, nakedness, man dick, man nakedness, man on man nakedness, man not on man not nakedness, torture of said naked man, swearing. Hello this is rated M? lol

* * *

Mariku finally felt content as he pulled up from his slave. The small blonde's skin was marred dried blood and semen. Mariku's hands were still tangled in his slave's messy hair, still enjoying the feeling and touch of the unconscious boy.

"But who wouldn't enjoy the touch of this slave?" Mariku thought in his head over and over again, almost to the point of obsession. But it was not obsession, it was Mariku's job that he had created for himself. It was his duty to break the slave. Not that there was much left to break, but the desire and need to do _something_ to Malik was great. Mariku had to wipe out any memories of Malik's previous life.

"Ahh" Mariku breathed as he completely lifted himself off of Malik. His back ached slightly, which was no surprise, even for a very physically fit person such as himself.

Pulling himself off of his polychromatic bed, Mariku made his way to one of the pools that sat next to the masterpiece of sleep furniture.

The water was warm, and smelled faintly of roses. It was comforting to sit in the pool of water, a luxury that the majority of people did not have. But Mariku was the best, he deserved the best, and he was given the best. At least thats what Mariku believed and said to himself as he slowly washed Malik's blood off his body.

Clapping his hands, Mariku summoned a slave from outside his door. A tall man, his skin extremely tan, and his hair was all shaved except for a single spot on his head where a great length of raven colored hair fell. The man fell to a submissive position upon his knees, awaiting orders from his Master.

"Rishid" Mariku spoke in an authoritative voice, the short syllables of the slave's name rolling off his tongue.

Rishid looked up and stared directly at Mariku, his dark brown, almost black eyes locking with Mariku's violet ones.

"Yes Master Mariku?" Rishid asked, his voice deep and gruff that was filled with such authority that it almost challenged Mariku's

The blonde man frowned, his lip curling in distaste. "Just take that slave back with you, and make sure that he is cleaned up for tonight. And perhaps feed him some decent food, he was actually good for once."

Rishid nodded and stood up from the ground and walked to Malik's unconscious body. Fear and sadness passed over the elder slave's face, but quickly disappeared, a blank expression returning to the slave's face. Rishid picked up a bloody blanket off the bed and wrapped Malik in it, to hide his shame, as well as his face. For this was customary, no one else was allowed to look upon the young slave's body, especially upon his face. Rishid vaguely wondered how people would react if they saw the similarities between Malik's and Mariku's faces.

"Before you go Rishid" Mariku spoke up, his fingers twirling the water.

Rishid turned around, Malik laying bridal style in his arms. "Yes Master Mariku?"

"Have any traders come around lately?"

"Any specific types of traders or barterers are you looking for?"

Mariku rolled his eyes and waved off the slave. "You of all people would know what I want. But I suppose this means that none have come around lately..." His bronze fingers lifted a petal from the pool, and flicked it towards the raven-haired man. "Inform me of when the next batch come in. And tell the underlings not to worry, I will be there to settle the whimsical tax problems later."

Rishid bowed and swiftly left the room, the sheet covering the younger slave trailed behind them. As soon as the pair were out of the room and the large doors shut, Rishid laid the slave upon a bench and pulled the sheet from his figure.

A small gasp left the man's lips as he viewed the damage more clearly. Large gash marks, bite marks, even burn marks could be seen upon Malik. There was no way the boy would be physically or mentally fit for another night with Mariku. The damage was far more extensive than Rishid had ever seen on the teen.

"What did he do this time?" Rishid wondered, his normally stoic face was filled with emotion. He gingerly lifted up Malik again, this time holding the boy close to his chest, and headed down the long hallway to the slave quarters that sat on the other side of the palace.

* * *

"You are packing for this?" Bakura asked as he stepped into his younger brother's chambers.

"Well of course." Ryou replied with a smile as he folded up an old suit and placed it within a small trunk.

Bakura raised an eyebrow shaking his head a tad. "You do realize you will have no use for any of your possessions there?"

Ryou glanced up at his brother, biting his lip in confusion. "But surely I will need clothes brother! And I love these clothes..."

"..." The elder brother stood aside the other's bed, dumbfounded. "...but I thought you knew what you were getting yourself into Ryou!"

"I do..." Ryou responded quietly, "But there are a lot of things I do not know... I was pretty sure that all slaves were allowed to wear clothes! I was just choosing things that I see the servants around here wear!"

Bakura nodded, a sad smile crossing his pale lips. Of course Ryou did not understand completely, the teen had never traveled more than fifty miles from his home. He gathered his knowledge from books and experience. And of course the subject of... pleasure... was not a common subject found in their library. Especially not the taboo subject of the harems of India and such.

"What will I need then Bakura? I hate to have any of these clothes thrown out, especially when the church collection could use them for those in poverty."

And of course... Ryou always thought for others above himself. Probably his greatest and most tragic flaw.

"Well... Honestly Ryou..." Bakura smirked a little, "You are going to be practically naked."

"What?!" Ryou screamed, his eyes growing wide. "You cannot possibly be serious!"

"Well not completely..." Bakura replied, his pale fingers stroking his chin, "But all the slave carts I have seen... Well the occupants were utterly bare, except for the slave traders of course."

"Aughh..." Ryou grumbled, pulling the clothes from his trunk. "I better not have to travel around in my birthday suit. I have too much dignity and class for that."

Bakura rolled his umber eyes, tangling his fingers into his unruly hair. "And again Ryou... I thought we discussed this. You are going to be a slave! A pleasure one at that! OF course you will not have any form of dignity or class! Out of all the social classes in India, you are just above the untouchables. You will have no rights, none."

"Of course I knew that Bakura." Ryou groaned, "I know what to expect as a slave. But until I am in that province, and inside that palace, I still have as high of a class as you!"

"You need to understand what to expect though!"

"I understand!"

Bakura glanced around the different personal items that Ryou was attempting to bring with him, like the twenty sets of novels that Ryou had just purchased a few months previous.

"Clearly you do not..." the elder Tozokou growled.

Ryou looked up at his brother with tears filling the corners of his eyes. As the first aqua crystal trailed down his snowy cheek, Ryou fell back upon his cotton stuffed mattress, facing the cracked ceiling. Bakura looked upon his brothers figure and pierced his lip before jutting out of the room.

The tension in the air was incredibly thick, it followed the elder Tozokou around, encircling him in a cloud of impatience and annoyance.

His fingers felt stiff, along with his neck and shoulders. But no matter what Bakura did, this frustration, this horrid tension would not leave him.

Bakura was never one to be patient. He was known for his anger, and known to be one who acted upon his feelings (but he was always calm enough to make decisions rationally, despite how bias and uncaring they may have been). The only person he actually ever cared for was his brother, and now.. He was losing his brother to a man who epitomized everything he detested and wanted...

In his anger Bakura quickly punched the wall, his fist making a resounding thud against the stone His knuckles bled from the sudden infliction, but the Tozokou smashed his hand against the wall once again. His face may have been devoid of emotion, but his body shook and sweat like a man experiencing great anguish.

"Lord Tozokou?" A timid voice questioned, almost afraid to pry into the black cloud that surrounded Bakura.

"WHAT?!" Bakura screamed, flipping around to face the person who was speaking to him. His pupils were fully dialated, and the veins in his neck practically popped out of his skin.

"I-I just wanted to know if you needed a b-bandage." The young maid asked, holding out a strip of cotton.

Bakura just grunted as he swiped the cloth from the girl's hands before barging off in the opposite direction.

"What the fucking hell am I supposed to do around here?" Bakura growled to himself, as he wrapped the cloth around his hand.

It was his curse, like when he was a child. It seemed as if he could not get anything right.

Everything mocked him, the portraits of his ancestors and relatives that lined the walls, the darkness of the interior space, the noise his boots made as they occasionally squeaked on the hardwood surface. Every...little...damn...thing... made his blood boil over.

"FUCK IT!" he growled, pulling down a tapestry of a particularly mocking character who's eyes just seemed to follow and laugh at him wherever he went.

The yellowing tapestry fell to the ground, pulling down at least three other paintings with it.

"The servants can deal with that..." Bakura mumbled, his anger temporarily alleviated. The anger swings seemed to come so much more frequently it seemed. The uncontrollable rage and thirst to do some damage was occurring now at least once a day, rather than once every week or so like it head in the past.

But every male in the Tozokou family had them. Some more frequently than others. Those who experienced them more frequently were looked upon with fear and some odd form of respect.

"It makes us stronger." The words of Bakura's late father, rang through his ears. "If you can learn to control rage and pain, you can learn to do anything. You will be so much stronger for it."

In a twisted fashion, it was true. Even though the emotional rage got him into much trouble during his lifetime, it also gave him the strength to overcome his strongest enemies. He was feared and respected. Probably more feared, but Bakura was cunning, he could lure anyone into a false sense of security if he truly desired.

Sighing to himself, Bakura leaned against the cold wall. Their quest, their journey would begin tonight, but would it end at the palace in India? Would it end before that? Or would they succeed, and would they come home heros?

With fingers' coated in sticky blood, and a head pounding from the post-emotional outburst, the elder Tozokou finally made his way down the hall and two flights of stairs to his own chambers.

His door was made out of an ancient oak, and required three different sets of keys just to open it. Bakura chose this room for just that reason, it would be near impossible for any of the servants to pry their curious eyes upon his belongings, and it calmed his anxieties about certain items leaving his room. Those certain items being a case of snakes and spiders, foreign ones he had discovered on his journeys as a child. Besides Ryou, they were the only company worth keeping. Plus, they kept the overly flirtatious women at bay.

Bakura smirked as he unlocked his door. One of his favorite reptilian creatures was sitting just inside the doorway, like an impatient child waiting for it's mother's milk. Picking up the diamond-back snake, the Tozokou smirked and walked into his bedroom. The furniture in his room was made of the darkest wood materials that were available. With the coat of stain and polish, they looked as black as the night sky on a cloudy night (when the irritating twinkling of the stars were missing, and the light of the sun behind the moon was utterly overpowered by the swirling grey fog). It was not the sort of room one would bring guests into, especially not a wife.

Bakura chuckled. A wife. What a hilarious idea. Bakura could not see himself settled down with any single person. Actually half the time, he found no pleasure in the flesh, or especially in others flesh. Yet, it was expected of him to produce some sort of heir, and of course Ryou would never do that for the Tozokou legacy(was it not obvious to everyone that his younger brother was much more attracted to the _same _sex?).

Women... Men... They were the same to Bakura. Untrustworthy, idiotic, presumptuous fools. But yet, he was in charge of taking care of many people, and he did a pretty damn good job at it too.

Placing the snake upon a pillow, Bakura let his body fall limp upon a large leather grandfather chair. A furry brown tarantula made it's way to the white-haired man's shoulder, much to Bakura's delight. Spiders were so much more simple than people. He could handle spiders, and he especially enjoyed tarantulas, probably because they scared the majority of people away from him. The perfect antidote to keeping human life at a 30 meter distance.

The contact of animals was probably the only live physical contact Bakura really allowed. What was the need for live contact anyway? What was the need for flesh to touch flesh? Bakura did not need anyone. That was one of the first lessons that he learned as a child. He didn't need anyone to take care of him, he did not need to work with anyone. He was a leader, he could take the world on his own if he truly wanted to.

"No one will care for you like you care for yourself. Always remember that. You are your own destiny, your own partner. You have no need for anyone son. The sooner you learn that, the sooner you will see the truth that lies in the world. The cold hard truth Bakura."

* * *

Ok, so I had a hard time writing this chapter (because it lacked torture and excitement). I got through everything I wanted to write in like the first 600 words. Which was pretty sad, because I cannot just post a shitty short chapter like that. So I decided to develop some psychology for the characters. Well just Bakura so far. I'm sorry if it was sort of boring, but it needed to be done.

(DON"T BOTHER READING NEXT PARAGRAPH UNLESS YOU ACTUALLY CARE)

I am a psychology major (or planning to be one, I just started up college so... I dunno yet), but I really like developing the character's psyche. And so far I've planned out the complicated psyche of Bakura and Mariku. Both have some egotistical problems, but it goes much deeper than that (it will make much more sense later). And anyway, Bakura has major anger issues linked with anxiety, and Mariku has some repressed memories and some personality disorder (if I wasn't on a plane at this moment I would grab my psychology book and get the exact terms). (and yes you heard me right, I'm stuck on a plane right now coming back home from a super-long vacation, in which I didn't get to enjoy since I was sick like the entire time during it, actually I am still sick yay...)

Oh and did I make it obvious enough? RYOU IS GOING TO BE A SEX SLAVE. Normally I like Ryou just because he is sweet an such, but lately his personality pisses me off. So now he will be abused.... hehe

T**O THOSE WHO HAVE REVIEWED**(thanks for reading this far down fyi, because I like to rant, and I like people who read my rants. *offers those people cough drops and airplane peanuts*

I want to thank each of you personally. (Yeah I'm a sap like that, and I really want to show my gratitude)

~First off to **Mittzy**, and **Teal Phoenix**, and **subaru1999**, and **Thief of Spades**, and **GlompBunneh**, and **Fallin-Alone-Scared-Lost**, and again to **subaru1999**, and finally **Cliscia~**

Thats about as individual as you get because I do respond to each one personally lol, unless I can't because you didn't sign into your account (and right now I am currently working off a list I wrote up quickly in the airport and so I don't remember which one of you I have not responded too)...

And to those who read this, WTF? wow, do you have nothing better to do?

As Always

RemainSilent1


	4. Chapter 4

Mariku is the ruthless ruler of a small province in India. Because of his greed and hate, he has made Malik, his half-brother, into a slave, whom he tortures at every chance he gets. Bakura and Ryou are trying to stop the terrible regime, resorting to the some of the worst possible options.

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO... If I did, Yami Yugi would be chopped up into hamburger meat and fed to Mariku, who would sincerely enjoy it.

Warning: mention of rape, nakedness, man dick, man nakedness, man on man nakedness, man not on man not nakedness, torture of said naked man, swearing. But this chapter is tame... So don't worry, the next ones will be much worse.

This part of the story occurs about 2 weeks in the future from the end of the last chapter.

* * *

Travel. That was something that Ryou Tozokou did not do much in his life. To travel off to far destinations, seeing different sites, different people, it was like a dream to the teen. A dream that was slowly shattering into small chunks of despair the closer and closer they got to the palace.

Ryou rested his elbows on the side of the horse drawn carriage, his pale face shadowed by the large canopy that covered the cart. The white-haired teen tried to immerse himself into the area around him. Listening to the clopping of the horses' hooves, smelling the sweet air that floated from the green grass of the lush valleys they traveled through, watching the wooly sheep that were in desperate need of a sheering. But none of this took his thoughts off of the inevitable. Soon, he was no longer going to be Lord Ryou Tozokou, second brother to the Tozokou fortune. No, he was going to be Ryou. Just plain old Ryou. Perhaps he would be called Slave Ryou, but the teen did not really know. Lowly, lowly slave Ryou.

The carriage rocked back and forward as it splashed through a shimmering brook, the water droplets flinging against the muddy legs of the horses. The water was no deterrent for the tamed beasts, nothing ever deterred them. They continued to travel, encouraged by the crisp vegetables and sugary cubes that their masters provided. It was a pathetic and despairing site. How could the magnificent creatures become so docile, so ready to serve their owners, their masters? How could they stand it? They were not born into this life, the majority of them were captured from the wild. Did they already forget what it was like to be free?

Ryou closed his eyes, eyelids hiding his umber orbs from view. Could he honestly live the life of a horse? Could he obey commands without question?

"Aughh!" Ryou growled, grabbing his ears with both hands as he tried to shake the repulsing thoughts from his head. But this method failed to work, actually any method Ryou had tried, failed to work. He needed to relax now, and meditate. But everything that he tried to focus his mind on reminded him of his ultimate demise, the promise he made.

The blades of grass seemed peaceful at first, the way the swayed back and forth with the breeze. But, the were so easily trampled by the hoofs of the horses, the horses who listened and obeyed their masters without hesitance, and greedily ate the sugary substances out the fleshy hands.

The sheep had also seemed tranquil, so at peace with their environment. Lazily enjoying the warmth of the sun, and the fields of clovers. But again, they were so broken down. Their prized possession, their fabulous wool, was taken from them, leaving them bare to the elements. (It was beside the fact that sheep needed to be sheered frequently, so that their wool did not overcome their small frames, and cloud their vision.).

Each thought made Ryou more and more depressed, but his face never showed it, the same chipper smile that normally donned his face was still there, still ever grinning and ever-bright. But his eyes. If one looked closely enough, the deep turmoil was to be seen with the chocolate irises, a swirling storm of disproportionate terror filled them. But no one knew, no one knew what was literally going in the mind of the teen, not even his older brother who perhaps knew him the best of all.

But Bakura was too distracted with his own thoughts to notice his little brother. He recognized his brother's presence when he gave his routine glance towards the huddled figure of the teen. Bakura was seeing, but Ryou was not being seen. But who could blame the man? There was so much resting on the two Tozokous' shoulders, that their feelings could not be taken into account anymore. Plus, they would be arriving at the palace at sunset. Bakura had yet to tell Ryou this, for he wished that his brother could relax for just a bit longer before the inevitable came to play. Anyway, Bakura had to play his part too. His part may not be as mentally and physically detrimental, but his job was highly important. If he messed up, their world would come crashing down.

"B-bakura?" Ryou muttered, finally breaking Bakura from his pessimistic thoughts. The platinum haired man glanced over at the platinum haired teen, watching wisps of hair fly from his heart-shaped face.

"Yes?" the elder Tozokou asked in an emotionless tone. His eyes gazed into Ryou's, but his mind was elsewhere.

"I... uh." Ryou stuttered, his pale cheeks tinging pink. But they were not turning pink from embarrassment, but from the anxiety that plagued his thin body, heating it greatly. "How much longer... until we arrive?"

"Sunset." Bakura mumbled as he twined his fingers together. "Perhaps even later. I am not positive."

Ryou bowed his face as he allowed his thick hair to fall in front of his eyes, shielding him from the rest of the world.

"Is there something wrong about that? You already agreed to doing this Ryou, you cannot just back out now." The elder Tozokou spoke in a half-growl.

"No... its not that." the younger Tozokou whispered.

"Than what is wrong?" the elder quirked an eyebrow.

"I had... I-"

"Spit it out already!"

"I-I... I had wished to see the palace!" Ryou yelled as he lifted his head to face his brother, "I wanted to get at least one look of the place I was going to stay out before I was trapped in that prison!"

Bakura looked at the teen in shock and confusion. "I don't think you want to see it..." He answered after a moments pause, "It's better to not know what you are missing out on. It is better to see what is real rather than ideal..."

Ryou glanced at his brother, "What do you mean real or ideal? Its all real, I see nothing ideal about this!"

"The palace will be your ideal Ryou. You will make assumptions about what is going on because you are dazzled by the sites. But thats not real, nothing on the outside is real. You should allow your eyes to be tainted, for that is what everything is there."

"I suppose..." Ryou answered, as the expression on his face grew more melancholy. "I know what I am supposed to do, and I accept that fully. I just worry, for this may be the last time I see anything beautiful."

"You are only looking at the ideal..." Bakura grunted, glancing at the passing sites. "In reality, nothing is beautiful... It is all corrupt."

"I hate to think like that." Ryou responded, cradling his hands in his lap. "Because than what would be the point of us working so hard for this? Aren't we trying to make the world more beautiful for people?"

"No..." Bakura turned away, his hair pulled across his shoulders. "We are making it less corrupt. For no matter what we do, there will always be corruption. And despite our best efforts, even if we do succeed, the chances of corruption going away is slim to none. Just... new corruption would replace the old."

"Oh..." was all that Ryou could respond. He did not agree with his elder brother's views. They were far to pessimistic. But, he supposed, it was better than him being angry. At least he could sort of get his anger out through talking, rather than becoming rage-filled.

Two separate internal battles plagued the brothers. But despite the situation being the same, their turmoil was quite different. Ryou worried and feared for the worst. But Bakura was frustrated, furious, and angry. But like their father always said, despite the fact that they were angry, the anger was only covering up another emotion. But through channeling the anger, they could become more tenacious... But what was the point? Could Bakura continue growing stronger? Or would it stop eventually, for strength is not a forever thing... It had to stop at some point.

He needed to take his anger out on something, someone. But Bakura could not. Nor would he look at what emotions his anger was covering up. He was not his brother, he was not a wimp, a whiner, an emotional wreck. Well perhaps he was a bit of emotional wreck, but he preferred saying that he had 'anger-management problems'.

Gritting his teeth, Bakura looked back to Ryou, who had promptly fallen asleep, his head resting upon the wall of the carriage. The elder brother sighed, and pulled off the coat he was wearing, and laid it upon his brothers shivering body.

At least for now his brother could be comfortable.

* * *

The sun had just sunken past the earth in Rishikesh. The only lights to be seen were the candles that flickered in the homes the travelers past. It was a beautiful, yet despairing site, for the company knew that it was almost time.

Ryou had changed into a dark blue tunic, with the front open down the middle, so that the teens chest and stomach were able to be viewed, and snowy white dhoti that was wrapped loosely around his legs. His hair was brushed so that it rippled down his shoulders, and partially covered his frightened face. It was better to keep his face covered, it made him appear more submissive and mysterious. Two key aspects to a pleasure slave, at least thats what Bakura had said.

Bakura had wanted his brother to appear with much less clothing, for thats what would be expected of him. But of course, Ryou convinced him otherwise. Ryou believed that since he was from a different area, and considered more 'exotic' for his pale skin, it would be acceptable to wear different clothing from the regular slaves that traveled through. Plus Ryou was far to modest to be seen by hundreds of people in anything less than a shirt and pants. And what could his brother do? Force his brother to wear nothing and humiliate him? No... Bakura was not that cruel. At least not to his own family. And besides, Ryou had a valid point. The pale, white-haired teen would be like nothing the slaves that the Sultan had ever seen. So, perhaps it was better to play up Ryou's appearance with clothes, rather than leaving the boy in rags.

The shackles had been hard for Ryou to get used to. A silver collar was placed upon Ryou's neck, with a thick silver chain extending from it. He felt like a pet, no better than the horses that were forced to pull the carriage along. Plus it was cold and heavy, much heavier than he even imagined. Keeping his head up was a challenge, he was never one to wear any form of jewelry, so the extra weight on his neck was strenuous on his muscles. But it was necessary, everything Ryou did was was his duty, he had to complete it. This was for the better of mankind, wasn't it?

Those thoughts ran through his head. They helped Ryou to relax as they grew closer and closer to the palace. He knew they were close for Bakura had grown extremely tense. The elder brother's hands were clasped tightly together, and his breath hitched slightly every couple seconds.

"We need to leave the carriage now." Bakura spoke, breaking the silence that surrounded them like a thick fog.

Ryou nodded, and watched as Bakura motioned to the driver to stop the horses. With a whinny the beasts dragged their hooves in the dirt, slowly coming to a halt. The chain attached to Ryou's collar was softly tugged, signaling to Ryou that he was to follow his elder brother out of the carriage. Humiliation flickered over Ryou's face, but it was quickly hidden as Ryou bowed his head and followed Bakura down the path. How Bakura could see in such darkness was confounding to the white haired teen, but Ryou did not think much into the fact for the chain that was attached to his collar was being tugged harshly.

"Sorry" Bakura muttered as he heard a wince being aired from his brother. But that was that only noise that was uttered between the two as they treaded down the stone path, making their way to the enigmatic palace.

The long journey to the palace was coming to a completion. Only a few more yards, and they would reach the gate leading them into the city, and hopefully straight to the Sultan's throne room.

The pair finally reached the gate, and Bakura was greeted by a guard who appeared to be attempting to make himself appear larger. But the man's efforts were surely in vain for Bakura's glare quickly cut him down to size.

"I am Lord Bakura Tozokou, and I am here to trade with the master of Rishikesh. I will speak with no other but the man himself." Bakura growled, the whites of his sharp canines glistened in light of the candle the guard was grasping. "Do I make myself clear?"

The guard scowled, but nodded at silver-haired man's remark. "M-may, I mean may I enquire as to the reason you wish to trade with the Sultan?" He asked, as he gestured for the brothers to follow him.

Bakura rattled the silver chains that attached to Ryou's collar. "Do I truly need to explain something so obvious to a man of little standard such as yourself?" the elder brother scoffed, his voice filled with impatience.

The guard stopped his pace for a moment, his figure obviously startled. He shook his head so violently that if there was hair on his head it probably would have flown off. Bakura just smirked as the guard tried to compose himself.

"What a fool." the elder Tozokou thought to himself, as he tailed behind the guard. "Wonder who was the idiot who let him pass training."

Ryou's thoughts were along the same line as his brother's for once. "This guard. Pathetic. If all the guards are like this, my job will be completed with ease." This perked the pale teen up a little, giving him a bit of hope in this otherwise despairing situation.

The two Tozokous' were soon lead to the grand entrance of the palace. Of course, with the lack of light, the white-haired brothers were unable to see the grandeur of the entrance, or any of the mosaics that covered the inner walls of the large foyer. Instead they saw the gruff faces of the guards that they were presented to. After a quick word between them, Bakura and Ryou were ushered into a room that was undoubtedly the throne room.

The room was brightly lit, colored in golds and reds and blue. The back wall featured a colonnade, the walls connecting the columns together were shaped like the petals of a flower. Everything was covered in ornate mosaics of abstract but symmetrical designs. The ceiling was concave, and covered in a number of shimmering jewels. There was really no way to describe the room, most who saw it for the first time dropped their jaws in awe, and fell upon their knees in reverence. Bakura and Ryou, Ryou much more surprised than his brother, were smart enough to keep their mouths shut, and their eyes focused towards the end of the room were a large throne sat.

A figure, wearing a egg-white turban and a violet tunic lounged upon the throne. He was busy listening to a slave with a long black pony-tail, not noticing the two visitors. As soon as the slave lifted his hand alerting the man of the two pale visitors, all attention fell upon the two Tozokou brothers. The man gestured with his long pointer finger for the two guests to come closer to him.

Bakura quickly pulled Ryou with him towards the throne, stopping only a couple feet before the man whose presence dominated the room. The elder brother bowed his head, and the younger fell upon his knees behind the elder.

"Namaste." The man spoke, grinning at visitors. "What presence makes itself known within my palace?"

"Lord Mariku" Bakura spoke quickly, as he lifted his head, umber eyes meeting dark violet ones. "I am Bakura Tozokou of the Hotan region in China."

Mariku nodded, eyeing the pale teen that was kneeling upon the floor. "Foreigners, obviously. Your land does not exist that far from mine, but yet physically we are so different."

Bakura nodded, "I can imagine that you have a clear understanding of why I come here."

"Of course." the sultan answered, licking his lips. "I can also see that you perhaps know more about me than I know about you."

Bakura's eyes flashed, was Mariku already aware of the true reason behind their arrival? But before Bakura could truly worry or make a defensive move, Mariku chuckled and continued.

"Most traders do not know of my tastes. They are always bringing along flashy women, and over-muscular men. I have little need for those. But this," Mariku stepped off of his throne and made his way over to Ryou. Lifting a lock of the teen's hair, Mariku continued, "is and exotic, and quite alluring little creature."

Bakura sighed in relief and smirked. "I am glad that your lordship approves of my possession."

"Stand up." Mariku ordered the teen, "Stand up so that I might get a better look at you."

Ryou climbed to his feet, trembling. The tremble was supposed to be an act, to make Ryou appear more subservient and easily breakable, but the teen was actually daunted by this man.

Mariku whistled as he got to view Ryou's face and body more clearly. "Very comely." he spoke, as he lightly gripped the teen's trembling chin so that he could better view the pale one's face. "So much like you, Bakura was it? Yes.. very much like you" Mariku glanced up at Bakura, viewing him and the teen.

"Yes, we are said to look much alike." Bakura agreed, giving Mariku a genuine smile, despite his mind was revolted by the way Mariku looked at his brother.

"Please then, explain your tale to me. But let us move into a more private room, I'd rather not have to be interrupted." Mariku glanced again at the young teen, "And I wish to have this boy inspected if you do not mind. I am sure that he is perfectly fine, but I do not want to add anything that is potentially un-agreeable to my collection. While that is done, I can hear your story and we can have a little business venture."

* * *

BTW the names of the areas are not made up, but the setting, the architecture, and everything else is.

* * *

I finally finished that chapter! Its actually one of my longer ones, I was planning on making it longer, but right now I have no motivation. It was difficult enough to just put that chapter up, since it lacks an element of excitement, and yaoi....

Anyway, there is a couple ways that this story can go. I have a basic idea, but I keep changing the elements. Would you like to see thiefshipping? (Bakura x Malik), and if you do, do you want it to be a permanent thing, (Mariku will have Ryou btw), or just a one time thing? If you guys want it as a one time thing, I will probably add angstshipping at some point.

And any other ideas of what you would like to see, just tell me. I am very flexible with writing, and I love to add in other people's ideas, even for small sections.

But thanks to everyone for the reviews. I know that I didn't get to your reviews right away like last time, but I will this time.

Thank you to **Mittzy, Teal Phoenix, subaru1999, thief of spades, GlompBunneh, Fallen-Alone-Scared-Lost, Cliscia, RoseleafISHTAR, j bear, tenspeed457, Roserietta, & KonekoKitsune33** for reviewing my story.

I would love love more reviews, because they really help me write. I honestly have no motivation for when there are very few reviews... So for each reviewer I offer *holds out a crystal ball* your dreams. (Anyone get that reference? If not...)

If there are any questions about the story, just ask too. I know I leave a couple spots open that probably need to be better explained. And I will fix those things up and explain whats going on ^^

Until Next Time,

RemainSilent1


	5. Chapter 5

Thicker than Blood chapter 5

Mariku is the ruthless ruler of a small province in India. Because of his greed and hate, he has made Malik, his half-brother, into a slave, whom he tortures at every chance he gets. Bakura and Ryou are trying to stop the terrible regime, resorting to the some of the worst possible options.

Disclaimer: I truly do not own YuGiOh, for if I did, I would not only be a little Japanese man, or some random stupid company that likes to destroy the plot of good television shows, I would also have an extra-special guro addition to the plot. Not that I enjoy guro stuff a hole ton, but I have always been intrigued by it, and I know it makes others happy.

* * *

Mariku lounged on a large plush cushion, sipping from a crystal chalice that had been placed in front of him by a servant. Another crystal chalice was placed in front of Bakura, but fearing the liquid that lay within, the Tozokou lord politely refrained from drinking. The two were seated across from each other, upon two couches that filled the small room. A small wooden table sat in-between them, placed there to not only hold drinks but probably to hold the bags of gold and rupees that were often involved in trade agreements, similar to this one. But it wasn't the table, or the plush furniture that caught silver-haired man's attention, it was the vibrant rug that was placed underneath the furniture. The rug appeared to be brand-new, it was missing the wear and tear that a rug would gather from usage. The furniture had not even indented the rug yet, it was obvious that the rug was never used before. Perhaps, it was to cover up the deals that had gone wrong. Bakura vaguely wondered how much blood was spilt in this room.

Mariku gazed at Bakura, taking in as much of the foreign man's appearance as he could. He had seen many men in his lifetime that had pale skin, but never one this pale, and with hair the same color as his silver jewelry. Only men of age and experience had that color hair, and this Bakura man, was probably no more than a few months older than himself. Perhaps this man was a demon that was great with age, but his body never showed it except for the hair upon his head. Or perhaps the man was just like himself, Mariku thought, running his fingers through his blonde hair under his turban, just a natural oddity. Anyway, the other child, the beautiful teen could be no demon, he was too gorgeous. That slave rivaled Vishnu himself, his beauty was uncompared.

"Bakura was it?" Mariku spoke as he swirled the liquid in his chalice around. "Tell me about yourself, I wish to know all the workings of your brain."

The Tozokou raised his brow, and folded his hands together before he responded. "Yes your lordship, I am Bakura Tozokou of the Hotan region. I am in charge of my own small province, much smaller than yours, and of course not as grand." Bakura paused to brush some of his hair behind his ear. Mariku watched each of Bakura's movements as if he was trying to detect some sort of falsehood in his words.

"The Hotan region you say?" Mariku took a sip of his wine, "Thats not too far from here. A three week journey at best?"

"Yes" Bakura nodded, "Depending on the nature of your travels and the amount of those traveling in your company. Luckily my company was small, and our transportation fast."

"Hmm." The blonde sultan responded, "I suppose that is all well and interesting, but I am far more intrigued in you personally, and your slave."

"If I may, I believe that you were quite pleased by his appearances." Bakura faked a smirk, his insides turning with disgust.

"Quite. He was very, satisfying in his appearance. But he, looks quite like you. Care to explain that?"

Bakura paused, his throat a little dry. Of course he had prepared himself for answering such questions, but the slight fear of messing up kept rising in the back of his mind.

"He's an unwanted relative of mine. His mother was, how can I say this politely, a whore, a demon woman."

"Ahh." Mariku nodded, as he shuffled with the jewelry that adorned his arms. "And she bedded with a family member and became pregnant I assume?" he added, his focus returning to Bakura's umber eyes.

Bakura sighed, "Yes, unfortunately."

"I suppose it is not that unfortunate," Mariku mused, rubbing his chin, "That boy is quite a marvelous specimen. I dare say I have never seen something so pure and untainted in my life."

"I have to agree he does make a lovely slave, quiet and submissive. I have never heard him complain once while in my service." Bakura inwardly laughed, such a blatant lie that he was saying. Ryou complained quite a lot, of course he had a positive attitude, but that did not stop him from whining every so often.

Mariku glanced down again at his jewelry, a large smirk growing upon his tanned face. His amethyst colored eyes sparkled in excitement, and other parts of his body also jolted with electricity. "You tell me he has been a slave for you, but what kind of tasks did he perform at your service Bakura?"

"Well originally I intended just to use him like a maid. He was always quite good at performing womanly tasks like cleaning and cooking. But, those tasks were taking a toll upon his appearance. His skin would grow rough, and he just seemed far too happy. As soon as I removed him from that service, his skin returned to its milky smooth state, and his mind lost the idyllic chatter of the other servants." Bakura answered, pulling Mariku along his trail of deceit.

Mariku appeared to be more than happy with Bakura's answer. And if the white-haired man was speaking the truth, the boy he brought would be the perfect slave. But there was one question, probably the far most important question that Mariku had been pondering since he first saw the white-haired god.

"Is he experienced?" Mariku blatantly questioned, his mind whirling with the different possibilities of what could come out of Bakura's mouth for an answer. "Because of course, you and I know what his destination is here. I have little use for more servants to clean and cook."

"Yes." Bakura answered truthfully, for once. "He has been trained in what to do. Of course he is a bit shy, but he will perform his duties without question, and do whatever he can to _please_ you."

"Good." Mariku grinned. His cock was beginning to ache for attention. All this talk of the new slave was making him grow quite aroused. Luckily his dhoti was quite loose, and all evidence of his arousal was hidden from view. "I personally cannot wait to hear back from my other servants on the status of this slave, but between you and me, is he really as tight as he appears?"

Bakura almost choked on that question, thankfully his facial expressions did not waver. Bakura was very good at acting, and despite the fact his stomach was turning in disgust, he was able to give Mariku a lucrative leer. "That, and he is hot and velvety smooth. Just absolutely divine."

"That arse of his is so round. I can imagine undressing him now, not much do I get to see a body that rivals Shiva. I would love to make him scream, scream my name over an over." Mariku grinned, his mind no longer in the small conference room. "I bet he screams like a bitch too, that hair, ahh.... I wonder what he can do with that pink tongue of his."

Bakura's eyes widened slightly, and his head began to pound with a bit of fury and frustration filling his core. How dare he talk about his brother that way, especially in his presence. Of course Ryou was supposed to be a pleasure slave, but he had hoped that Mariku was a bit more reserved than that!

"Just thinking about it makes me want to call him into this room, bend him over the table and just drive myself straight into him again and again."

Bakura coughed, clenching his hands together tightly, leaving his hands even paler than before as all the blood was unable to circulate between his fingers.

"But I am afraid, we have to make a deal before I can even think about this. Isn't that right Bakura?"

Bakura shook his head, pushing his anger to the side. "Yes... Thats what I was just thinking Lord Mariku."

"I will give you 100,000 rupees for your slave. If that is agreeable enough with you." Mariku smiled at Bakura, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Bakura's jaw nearly dropped as he did the conversion in his head. He did not even imagine that he would be offered _that _much for his brother. No wonder Ryou was asked to play the part of the pleasure slave.

"No..." Bakura declined, a smile imprinted upon his face. "My wishes do not even involve money." Bakura added, his mind a bit saddened and disgusted in the same.

Mariku tilted his head to the side, and gazed at Bakura in confusion. "What could you possibly desire? I have no daughters or sisters that I can offer you for marriage, even though I believe you would not find any pleasure in that."

Bakura coughed again at that statement, but Mariku continued without noticing the silver-haired male's discomfort.

"And I can't imagine that you would need protection in some sort of war. I know for a fact that there have been no uprisings in your area in centuries. What could you possibly want? A one-night stand with myself?" Mariku speculated, a bubble of laughter leaving his lips.

"No... I could not care for any of those things." Bakura gave an amused look to the bronzed man seated across from him, "I wish to offer my slave as a gift to you, in hopes to find a friendship between the two of us."

"Like an alliance?" the sultan inquired, still chortling a bit about his last statement.

"Exactly" the silver-haired man agreed, his voice as smooth as silk. "An alliance between two men with great minds and great passion."

"I quite like the way you think." Mariku spoke, "I agree to your terms with humble gratification."

In his mind Bakura scoffed. He could never imagine this man who sat in front of him to be humble. For if the stories were true, and Bakura was positive they were after just speaking with the bronzed sultan, this man would be anything but humble.

"A toast then." Bakura finally uttered, "And a blood bond to signify the new acquaintance between ourselves." He added, pulling out a small dagger from his pocket. The dagger was far to small to do any real damage, so it was no threat to Mariku.

Mariku did the same, pulling a knife from under his seat cushion (why it was there is probably better left up to the imagination), and sliced open his hand without his facial expressions wavering in the slightest.

Bakura also slit open his hand, but with a slight grimace on his face, and a grunt escaping his lips. He held his bleeding hand to Mariku's, and shook them together. The two then took a drink from their crystal chalices, and a small smile was shared between them.

"I suppose than it would be only proper for me to offer you my finest tonight, and for however long you wish to stay within my palace."

"That would be lovely." Bakura breathed, his head feeling a tad shaky from anger and pain.

"Let me call my head-servant, and I will have it all arranged.

* * *

Ryou was barely enjoying the fact that his naked body was being inspected from all angles, his clothes had been lost not too long ago. His face was painted crimson with a deep blush that would not leave his cheeks. But he stood tall, well as tall and proud as a slave could get, while dark eyes inspected every inch of his body.

His mouth was grabbed and pried open, as a servant inspected his teeth.

"Perfect condition. I count all 32 teeth."

Another servant grabbed Ryou's arms and raised them above his head, and then flexed them out, feeling the muscles.

"No breaks or bruises of any kind."

The same servant dropped Ryou's arms to his side and quickly grabbed his manhood, causing Ryou's eyes to roll back in embarrassment and discomfort. His length and testicles were fondled, and carefully inspected for any lumps or discolored skin.

"In working order, and average endowment."

The white-haired teen practically choked in mortification, but he kept the air of confidence and understanding around him. Ryou had to act like he was used to this sort of treatment, and turn away all modesty. Good pleasure slaves were not supposed to be modest. Besides, he also needed to pay attention to his surroundings. The sooner he collected the information he needed, the sooner that this would be over.

The hands finally left Ryou's body, and his clothes were pushed back into arms. Ryou scrambled to replace his missing articles of clothing. His white hair was brushed to the side, the white strands out of his face. As soon as he deemed himself ready, he bowed his head and closed his eyes in exhaustion. This night was beyond what Ryou had expected, and he was already as tired as he could get.

"I am surprised that Master Mariku is getting himself another pleasure slave." a voice spoke in a whisper, to the servant who was originally 'checking' Ryou. A couple muffled whispers followed the voice, probably in response.

Another pleasure slave? Ryou perked up, trying to listen in on the conversation. Why was it so strange that Mariku was getting another? Ryou imagined that the man probably had a whole harem filled with slaves used for sexual endevours.

"The master probably wishes to partake in other activities. Perhaps ones that would involve another slave."

"But he has only used that one for so long. Claiming that no other could satisfy him."

"Perhaps master was growing bored."

"I doubt it." the voice, wavered slightly. "Perhaps the rumor is true."

A smack sounded through the room, the sound of flesh upon flesh. Ryou's brown eyes widened in shock, as he quickly turned his head to face the source of the sound. But he saw nothing. The two servants had left the room as quickly as they came, leaving Ryou alone to himself, to collect his thoughts.

* * *

After the meeting with Mariku, Bakura's mind and body was filled with disgust and hatred. He tried to keep himself calm as he was led to his resting chambers, but rage was quickly intensifying in his soul. It was as if his emotions caught on fire, and Mariku's words were like oil, adding to the flame.

Clenching his fists tightly, and holding his jaw tightly shut, the Tozokou managed to keep his anger from bursting out of his skull and onto the one closest to him (which in this case would be a young boy who was leading him to his room).

"We are almost there Lord Tozokou." The boy spoke, his voice thick with accent. "Master Mariku made sure that you had the largest guest room in the entire palace, and you get a nice view of the gardens outside."

Bakura rolled his eyes. He was not there to view gardens or wildlife. He was on a mission to take down the man, who called himself Mariku, but who should really call himself a spawn of the underworld. The way the man spoke of Ryou as if he was a piece of meat was truly disgusting. Although, Bakura doubted that Mariku actually ate meat, at least very little, seeing that he was Hindu. But that was beside the point. Mariku was a menace, such an awful person. It made Bakura wish to carve holes into the walls with his bare fingers, just to rid his mind of the pain and frustration.

"Here is your room sir." the servant boy announced, pushing the door open. "I hope your arrangements are pleasant, Mariku did say to give you his finest of everything."

The white-haired man pushed past the child and hurried into his room, ignoring the fact that the servants eyes were still on him. How he hated that his looks made him the target of other eyes. Bakura quickly slammed the door shut, and shuffled his way into the dimly lit room, his body filled with rage. His head pounded, and sweat dripped from the top of his forehead, down his face like salty tears.

"Fuck his finest." Bakura growled, making his way over to his curtained bed. "Like it is even close to being fine, he didn't even offer me food or shit for the night."

Bakura pulled back the curtain in a fury, the silk curtains almost ripping from the frame. He was about to fall upon the thick mattress, but a certain figure laying upon the bed caught his eye. Actually the figure threw Bakura into more of a fit, but for a moment his umber eyes lay curious as to why there was someone upon the bed _he _was supposed to sleep in.

"Who in the blazing fires are you!?!" Bakura screamed, pushing the figure off his bed in a huff. The white-haired man's hands trembled, and his vision was practically red. He needed to take his anger out on something, and the fact that there was someone here to witness his rage, was not good. It happened before, he had nearly killed someone once.

The figure whimpered, and pulled himself off the ground. His face was covered, but his bronze body, illuminated by the little candlelight, was utterly naked.

"I-uh..." the teen mumbled, his eyes widening in fear, "I w-was sent by M-master to to, please you this evening."

Bakura quirked an eyebrow, his hands clenched so tightly that his nails were drawing blood from the palms.

"This is Lord Mariku's finest?" The cloud of anger over Bakura's face disappeared for a moment, but quickly returned. He was obviously not thinking straight, his thoughts were muddled and confused. But the white-haired man knew he had to get his anger out, in one form or another. At this point, it did not matter how he did it, he just really needed to do it.

Bakura took a step towards the naked teen the now stood next to his bed, and grabbed his arm roughly, throwing him upon the bed.

"Where's the oil?" he growled, staring at the slave that was sprawled upon the covers. The teen looked at the white-haired man confused for a moment before speaking. "O-on the bath sir."

Running to the bath, Bakura quickly swiped a bottle, which he hoped contained some sort of oil and leapt upon the bed. He crawled over the slave, taking in some of the slaves naked beauty, before latching his mouth upon the bronze shoulder, biting at it harshly.

The slave did little but writhe and choke as the mouth bit his skin fiercely, from his shoulder down to the pink nubs on his chest. The white-haired man's mouth nipped and suckled at these, obviously pleasing both the tan slave and the pale man.

Bakura had never done this before, but his instinct told him what to do. The biting, the biting felt good for him. It was a relief. And the slave that writhed under him, only continued to help stimulate his own senses, and bring him over the edge in desire and lust.

Wrapping his fingers around the slave's shoulders, Bakura leaned in and licked and nipped slightly at base of the teens neck. His tongue slid up to the slave's jawline, tasting and enjoying the flavor of the skin. But as quickly as Bakura had attached himself to the slave, he pulled off, straddling the slaves hips. His own member rocked against the slaves waist, stimulating him in a way that he had never felt before. Letting out of moan, Bakura continued to rock against the slave, his body growing hot and aroused. His trembling hands, coated slightly in blood (for his nails had cut the palms earlier), quickly undid the buttons upon his shirt, and the buttons that held in his aching cock.

Throwing his clothes to the ground, Bakura looked upon the face of the slave once again, disappointed that it was completely covered by a veil. But what did it matter? The slave's body was enticing, and Bakura's own body was aching for contact. Grabbing the bottle of oil, Bakura poured the contents upon the slave's stomach, and swept his dextrous fingers over the wet substance. As soon as his fingers were coated, he quickly plunged two into the slave's tight entrance, pulling the ring of muscles apart. The slave shuddered and twitched, whether it was in pain or pleasure, Bakura did not know.

As soon as the tan teen was prepared by the fingers, (Bakura not taking the time to search for that pleasure spot within the teen, or paying attention to the slave's growing erection), the pale man coated his own length in the sweet smelling oil, and plunged himself into the warm body of the teen that lay beneath him.

Bakura's mouth opened wide, and his eyes practically rolled to the back of his head. This feeling, it was nothing like he had ever felt before. The tight heat that tightly surrounded his cock was overwhelming, it was as if someone had taken the softest piece of velvet, warmed it, and wrapped it around his member. He desired nothing more than to get more of this feeling, more of this frictional heat around the most important place in his body.

Grabbing onto the teens hips, Bakura slowly pulled himself out of the teen, and then quickly rammed himself back into the body. The tan teen squirmed, a nearly inaudible groan passing through his lips. But the white-haired man did not notice, he did not even fully comprehend that the body underneath him was actually that of a living and mentally functioning person. All that matter to him was the pleasure, the feeling.

Finding himself unable to control himself much longer, Bakura rocked in and out of the body at a rhythmic pace, quickly growing faster and faster. The smell of sweat, and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh , as well as the sounds of Bakura's moans and groans that he was not even aware that he was making, filled the room.

His hands were probably bruising the hips of the slave, but he curled his fingers around them even more tightly, as his body increased the speed of the thrusts drastically, beginning an even more erratic pace. Before he knew it, heat began to pool at the base of his stomach, and his cock was beginning to ache for release. Although he wished for the pleasure to continue, his body began to convulse, and his member quickly sprayed out his seed,and releasing all the pent up anger and rage into the body underneath him.

The orgasm was truly incredible. Bakura laid over the slave, riding it out for as long as he could before his body gave way, and quickly drifted into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

Another chapter done! Finally! This chapter definently took me the longest to write, I kept having to stop and pick it up over the past few weeks. So if there are any inconsistencies, please notify me. I'm trying my best to keep everything in order, but of course I know I am not perfect and I make mistakes.

THANK YOU VERY MUCH, for all the amazing reviews from the last chapter. From **tenspeed457, Roserietta** (whom I must admit, probably has some of the most entertaining reviews I have ever read), **Fallen-Alone-Scared-Lost, Mel-Girl, GlompBunneh, TooLazyToSignIn** (which made me laugh quite a bit, and thanks for the review btw since I couldn't exactly send you a reply), **Angael, MissPinks, ShadowYashi, MokoBunChan, **and finally **Chibi-Roy-Chan**

I have gotten so many reviews for this story, I am quite amazed! I would like to personally thank everyone who has reviewed, and everyone has reviewed multiple times. I would have probably given up on this story long ago if it wasn't for all the amazing feedback. Here's a washable tattoo, and umm a spool of ribbon for all of you! (I'm just looking at whats around my desk to give away. I would offer my ipod, but I kind of want to keep that).

Anyway thank you again, oh and thanks for all the ideas for this chapter!  
Ryou x Mariku next chapter~

Until next time,

RemainSilent1


	6. Chapter 6

Thicker than Blood chapter 6

Mariku is the ruthless ruler of a small province in India. Because of his greed and hate, he has made Malik, his half-brother, into a slave, whom he tortures at every chance he gets. Bakura and Ryou are trying to stop the terrible regime, resorting to the some of the worst possible options.

Disclaimer: I truly do not own YuGiOh. Honestly, do I act or look like someone who would own it? I don't even own anything that has to do with the show... Wait I do own the mangas, so nevermind. I am the owner of the YGO mangas, and whatever I say shall happen within this story.

Warnings: I don't think I've put this up yet, but... This is graphic lemony goodness. Every chapter is basically filled with lemons (I finally figured out how this damn little secret code goes by the way, knowing the dif between lemons and limes... yes I am slow) And lemonade. I do love lemonade. But anyway this is filled with sex. Man on man sex. Man on man torture. Man on man psychological torture... perhaps woman on man psychological messed up torture. But no man and woman sex. Umm... this chapter, tad more tame... no blood... but it will return eventually

BTW if you are confused, this part takes place somewhere before Ryou was being 'felt up' by a bunch of random servants, and after Bakura left the little meeting room. And yes... yes there will be YMxR, so be happy.... for once... And I know this chapter is late, so enjoy the fact I didn't just give up on the story.

* * *

Everything was so hard to describe. But how could he describe it? It was not physical, not emotional, or mental... It was just there.

But what was it? The best way he could describe it was as a feeling, yet feelings are not physical, and they hold an emotional background. No... this, this was something different all together. The 'pain' the 'feeling' started somewhere along the bridge of his stomach, crossing over the naval and pushing far into his back. It quickly traveled upwards, closing his throat, and throwing sparks into his mind. Perhaps if he ignored the whatever it was, it would go away.

So familiar... So familiar this feeling was, but... it was disturbingly familiar. Oh how he wished it to leave his body, to leave his presence. He did not want it invading his erethral form any further. But it would not leave! It hugged onto his mind even further filling his mind with noise and visions.

_"Come on little one. Come grace your mother with your beauty. Show me your eyes and allow me to peer into your soul. It won't hurt, do not worry. Trust me, trust your mother. I will make you strong."_

_ "But I don't wanna to be strong.. I just wanna..."_

_"Shh, let mother do this for you. The world will flock to you, they will take you in their arms and praise you."_

_ "Mama" _

_"You mind is so easy to mold. You are young, but you will see what makes the world evil, and what will make you good and perfect."_

_ "But papa isn't evil mama... He let me play with the fishies. They're real swishy and splashy."_

_"No son, your father isn't as good as he seems. If he really was good he would have given you the fishes, and an entire river to hold them in."_

_ "But I don't wanna river. I just wanna play!"_

_"Would you not like an entire river to play with? And all the little children in the village letting you win all the river games, and give you colorful gifts wrapped up in beaded scarfs and gems?" _

_ "Isis gave me a scarf! She said it was made, umm, of uhh sheen... no.. umm silk?"_

_"Were you listening to your mother?"_

_ "I was... I was... but..."_

_"But what?" _

_ "I dunno... I think it would be nice... But papa says I can't do that kind of stuff."_

_"Your papa isn't the boss of you son. Papa just thinks he is. But you are much smarter than papa, much smarter."_

_ "But papa is so smart! He can-"_

_"No my dear, you will always be smarter than your father. And you have me to make you smarter. Wouldn't you like to have all the knowledge in the world?"\_

_ "Do you know everything mama?"_

_"Of course dear. Soon you will too."_

* * *

What makes someone intelligent? Looks? Charm? Power? Whatever made someone knowledgeable really did not matter. He had it all. And now he had more.

Mariku licked his lips lightly as he walked down the brightly lit hallway. Brightly colored mosaics shined on the wall and the floor, forming shapes and patterns, but never any figures or faces. That was not allowed, that was blasphemous, and the gods would surely smite anyone who created such a work. Although Mariku had always wished for such an image of himself, but he was not willing to face the wrath of the gods.

Thirty-three columns and 159 steps later, Mariku reached an arched doorway. It was not the one he reached every night, for that room was on the east side of the palace. (And as a sultan, he got up with the sun, taking in its power each and every day). No, this doorway was in the north, far from his chambers and his throne room.

Nearly every doorway in the palace held an imprinting of the scriptures (as deciphered and reworded by Mariku of course), and this doorway was no different from the others, except this one, he carved himself days after being named sultan. The printing was shaking and split oddly, but nevertheless it held important meaning for Mariku. Besides, how many people can say they have written the scriptures, and hid a message within the characters? (Perhaps quite a few, but Mariku was much smarter than those, at least thats what he believed.)

Briefly grazing the tips of his fingers across the lettering, Mariku smiled. A true and genuine smile graced his lips, his violet eyes sparkling. But as soon it was visible upon his mouth, it was gone and returned with a sneer. His nose scrunched, and brow tightened. Feral and wild thoughts managed to mix themselves with sentimental and passive ones. How insane he felt, and how insane he was about to become as Mariku ran into the room passing through thin curtains that hung from the low ceiling.

"Hello Ryou." the sultan spoke, as he began to unwrap the turban from his head, jewels falling from the folds.

A small pale figure stepped into view. His chocolate brown eyes viewed the bronzed man, and his unnatural blonde hair carefully, avoiding eye-contact at all costs.

"I didn't get much of a view of you earlier Ryou," Mariku said, the ends of his lips turning upward into a small smile.

Walking over to the thin teen, Mariku bent his head down in the crevice between the shoulder and neck, inhaling the foreign slave's scent. "So sweet. Much like wild flowers and roses. Perhaps with a touch of rosemary. But it is a very pleasant aroma to breathe itself from the flesh"

The teen was pulled into strong arms, his back resting upon the chest of his captor. "Since you are here, it must mean that my servants have found your body up to my standards. It would be a shame if they were not... I would hate to see you _disposed_ of."

Ryou's eyes widened. The way the sultan's tongue rolled over the word 'disposed' caused an involuntary shudder to quake through his thin frame. Was this man willing to kill just because of a simple defect? The way the man spoke was so serious and sincere, confirming Ryou's suspicions and slight worries. How was he going to find the information he needed if he was going have to avoid the promise of death so much?

Mariku licked up and down the teens neck, relishing in the taste. Complete and utter control over the smaller one. Oh how he loved it. Fresh meat was so lovely, even if it was only going to be for a short period of time. Well, perhaps this one would last... Perhaps...

"Tell me slave, what do you know in the ways of sexual desire and lust? I've been assured you know much, but your eyes tell me a different story." Mariku tilted Ryou's head to the side, placing his nose against the pale-haired one's nose. "So innocent, so delectable. Come tell me what you know?"

"I-I know enough Master. I could bend over backwards if you needed me to. I can do anything you wish and desire of me."

Mariku snickered, hot air blowing in spurts from his mouth. "I see. Explain to me how you suck a cock."

Ryou lowered his eyes, a slight blush spreading upon his cheeks. "I do whatever you wish me to do Master." Ryou answered, hoping that would be the safest answer.

"Oh so vague, but it suits this situation. I suppose." Mariku began grinding his hips into the soft flesh that was made up the pale teen's lower region, alerting the slave of the lust that his master was obviously feeling.

"Would you care for a ride?" Mariku whispered lucratively into Ryou's ear. "I'd like to see your skills at work."

Ryou nodded, wishing that this would be only one of the times that he would give up his dignity like this. But a thought in the back of his mind reminded him that it was only the beginning... The beginning of a long and strenuous mission.

Ryou's eyes fell upon his master. Mariku had swiftly lain down upon the cushioned ground, unwrapping the long cloth that formed his pants away from his legs and waist. His tunic quickly disappeared as well, leaving a bronze god, and his throbbing arousal, quite exposed to blushing teen.

Knowing what was expected of him, Ryou slowly removed his tunic, although his trembling fingers kept having trouble with the buttons. As soon as the dark blue clothing left his shoulders and fell to the floor, Mariku's mouth filled with drool.

"Come here slave." Mariku spoke in an authoritative voice, waggling an extended finger, gesturing the teen to come closer.

Ryou stood next to Mariku, his mind screaming in protest as his white dhoti was pulled away from his figure. Ryou's flaccid penis was shown off to the blonde-haired sultan, who in-turn quickly licked the pale member with a smirk.

"Show me what you do best pleasure slave." The sultan grinned, as he poured a pool of lubricant into his hands, and rubbed a liberal amount of the substance all over his aching red member.

Ryou crawled upon Mariku's stomach, his heart pounding like drums in his chest. He feared that the internal organ would jump out of his skin. This was nothing like Ryou imagined. He had the imagined more pain, to be dominated... But this man, he was letting Ryou do the work. How confusingly odd... Why was Mariku acting like this? It was completely out of character. All these thoughts passed through Ryou's mind, but Ryou did not have time to dwell on them. He had a job to do.

Positioning himself just above Mariku's glistening cock, Ryou lowered himself upon it, until it was fully sheathed within his 's face contorted in pain. He inhaled sharply, in an attempt to relax himself, but his breath cut at the back of his throat in an unpleasant manner.

"Ohh..." Mariku moaned, shutting his eye as his cock was squeezed and massaged by the warm hole.

The pale teen just shuddered at the awkward feeling. This part was always the hardest for him to get used to... The initial pain, the initial awkwardness, and he was not even given the pleasure of preparing himself first.

After what seemed like an eternity to both participants, Ryou began to move his body up and down the slick cock, placing his hands upon his master's taught stomach to keep leverage. Ryou gasped slightly in pain and pleasure as Mariku's cock rubbed against his prostate.

"Mmm, just like that slave." Mariku purred as he grasped onto the cushions beneath him with one hand, and stroked the slaves member with the other.

Ryou continued to move his body up, down, and around. The 'around' was him pushing his hips in a circular fashion, trying to get it to rub against his prostate more and more. The pleasure that Ryou felt however, was not the pleasure he wished. He would rather have pain than receive such a feeling from a terrible and utterly despairing situation. But he was doing his job, despite how awful it was.

Fed up with the slow pace, or perhaps desiring to gain control of the situation, Mariku grabbed Ryou's hips and thrust his lean body upon his cock even harder and more quickly. With a frenzied pace, Mariku continued, sweat drenching from the intimate areas of his body, and pooling from his forehead upon his neck. Ryou was quite the same. His face was tinted pink from the unbearable amount of eroticism that was filling his core, burning at his stomach and groin. The throbbing pressure was felt by both the slave and the master.

In response to the throbbing and pleasure filled moans, Mariku continued, holding in his approaching climax. Ryou however, was unable to hold onto his release. His body convulsed, and his seed shot out like a well placed arrow from a bow. The tightening of the pale teen's passage nearly sent Mariku over the edge, but he managed to force his thick length into the incredibly tight boy for a few moments longer before he finally exploded.

"Oh gods of e-everything," Mariku moaned, wrapping his arms around the trembling teen. "I t-think I may need to keep you."

Sighing, Mariku spoke again, "Yes, I definitely will need to keep you."

* * *

(_AN: This next part occurs after Malik and Bakura had sex. Everyone slept together around the same time, so this is just catching up to what is happening at this current time in this story)_

Malik felt warm, relaxed, and a bit suffocated. The suffocation was probably caused by the fact a large body was sleeping contently on-top of him. His mind was very confused. First off, who was this man? Mariku very rarely made him sleep with others, for his master wished to keep his slave untouched by others. Actually, the last time that Malik ever slept with another was at least two years previous. Something was occurring then in the palace. Malik had little clue as to what, for Rishid was not around to explain why the other slaves and servants were working so hard... But the man who slept with him... was quite harsh. Malik barely remembered anything that happened that time, except when he finally regained consciousness, Mariku was bathing him in his rose pool.

But this man... he was incredibly different. Not only his appearance was odd, with skin the color of milk and hair the color of the moon, but he was gentle. His reddish colored eyes had been filled with fury and anxiety, yet... The stranger barely harmed Malik. The sex was a bit rough, but Malik liked it that way. He had no choice but to learn to like it, especially with his master's new desire for extremely rough sex.

Despite the act itself being a bit harsh, this man, the pale man lain over his body, still cared for the other's comfort... Asking for oil... Lately Mariku had been forgetting that, a lot.

Malik turned his head towards the pale man, snuggling him slightly. This person was very familiar to him, at least his actions seemed familiar. But, he couldn't place the familiarity. His mind was so corrupted, missing so many pieces of information and memory. His process of thinking was molded into serving others at all costs, and agreeing that he was not worthy of anything good or grand. He was Mariku's slave, nothing more... He was a bit broken on the inside.

Why did this man seem so familiar?! Malik's head screamed as he clenched onto the sheets beneath him. The only people that Malik knew were Mariku and Rishid... Everyone else was required to leave him alone. He never did have much interaction with others, and none of the other slaves were comforting. They held the same fear that Malik held, except theirs was accompanied with a longing for a better life, and Malik had learned to resign himself to the life that he had.

This pale haired stranger didn't remind him of Rishid... No... Rishid was a caretaker, who cared for his wounds, wiped away his tears, and was completely gentle. Nothing horrid or bad ever happened with Rishid.... Rishid took away pain, leaving him with a numb feeling inside.

It was out of the question that the stranger reminded him of Mariku.... But who else? Who else did he know that was good, but bad at the same time...

The color blue flickered past his vision. A soft yet a piercing blue, similar to that of a sapphire. Isis! Memories flooded back into his brain. His sister... how could he have forgotten her?

This man was just like Isis... rough around the edges, but a good person at heart. Well at least thats what Malik wished this man was like. But, he most likely was not. Nobody was truly good at heart. And those who were the least bit good, were corrupted, beaten, abused... No one cared about those who saw hope for the world.... There was no point in having hope.

But Isis... She still tried to make every situation the best that she could, despite the numerous number of obstacles that she had to face. She would push her dark onyx colored hair out of her face, and tuck in behind one of her jewel ornamented ears. Then she would look at whatever was affecting her straight in the eye and quickly come up with a way to solve or conquer it. Isis only had hope, thats all she did. She made sure Malik was well and taken care of. Despite how harsh some of her orders and words may have been, they were for the best.

But Malik had forgotten those words. No doubt that they would be forgotten again. The act of passion he just felt would just become a memory, a distant one at best. Malik clutched the sheets in his hands and breathed heavily. The man above him would soon awake, and the teen would either have to entertain him again, or he would be sent to his chambers.

Malik closed his amethyst eyes and let out a small breath of warm air. What did it matter anyway? Malik was of no importance anyway. Nothing truly mattered when it came to him.

* * *

Mariku grinned at the small figure that lay sleeping peacefully in the cushioned filled room. As he walked out the doorway, back into the hall, his hands touched the doorway, outlining the strangely formed letters.

"For you mother."

* * *

Ok, so I was a little lazy that chapter. But there wasn't much to do or say. I'm still working really on developing the characters, and I think I've just about finished them, well the basic stuff anyway.

And I am sorry for the delay, and the shorter chapter. But I truly only write when I really need to (for reasons that matter little to the audience) and when I am inspired. And hopefully, I will be a bit more inspired soon, especially since I can get the plot moving along a bit more and more... Slowly, but surely. Who the hell knows how long this story is going to be?

Anyway, if there are any misconceptions, or some sort of shit that you wish to complain about (or praise about, I haven't gotten anything but good feedback from this story so far, but like most other perfectionist people out there, I hate everything I write because it is not good enough, or up to a high enough standard for myself.) But anyway, please review! I probably won't even start up a new chapter until I get some feedback from this one

Thanks to** Fallin-Alone-Scared-Lost, ShadowYashi, MissPinks, TenSpeed457, Chibi-Roy-Chan, InsertSmileyHere15, Roserietta, Pockyfeind **(whom btw I was unable to thank for such a kind review), **DarkWolf259, MokuBunChan, and Celestial Reign** for the extremely sexiful reviews in the last chapter. 43 reviews so far! (Which is far more than I could have ever asked for, but now that they have been given to me, I kind of want a lot more)

And Until Next Time, stay gorgeous, and chase after those boys, or girls, or both (whatever your preference may be), and enjoy yourselves.

I shall be putting up some short one-shots before the next chapter, so keep your eyes open for those... But yeah... Rant rant rant... rant...

RemainSilent1


	7. Chapter 7

So of course it has been a long while since I've published anything on the subject of this fanfiction or any other one of my stories. Of course as I grown older my writing style has changed and possibly, quite possibly it may have matured through experience and a slightly increased vocabulary (but my writing probably has not improved seeing as I haven't done much writing in ages). So my question is, if there is any interest in me continuing back where I left off? Is there still an interest?

I'll post a small chapter addition just to subdue a few of the people who have commented on this after years of not being updated.

* * *

And I may mess up in some areas, such as following the story-line correctly. I have re-read it, and I do not have a clue as to some of the hidden secrets I had referred to… This will be fun!

Bakura turned on his back, his eyes slowly opening as sunlight began to creep upon his face. His thoughts were jumbled, and his memory cloudy; it was as if someone gave him a potion to forget his troubles and to just relax. Such an idea was laughable, and provided Bakura a quick grin. The grin faded fast as Bakura began to recognize, or rather not recognize the unfamiliar surroundings. The bed he lay in was clearly much too delicately designed to be his own, and the room too bright to even be remotely familiar.

Taking a deep breath, Bakura began to resurface the memories of what happened the night before with Mariku, Ryou, and… the pleasure slave? Umber eyes darted to the other side of the bed, traveling across the figure that was sprawled between thin copper-colored sheets.

"Fuck…." Bakura muttered under his breath, grabbing the nearest sheet as he wrapped it around his waist. "Fuck everything to hell."

The blonde creature began to stir, yawning ever so slightly as his hands slipped under his veil to rub weary eyes. As his vision began to clear, so did the overwhelming fear lingering at the pit of his stomach surface. Quickly scooting to the edge of the bed, the slave bowed his head in humility. "I-I… I'm so sorry sir… I apologize for my wrong doings…"

"….. Wrongdoings?" Bakura thought aloud, scoffing at the very idea, "what type of wrongdoing have you performed? Perhaps it is customary for people… like you, to wake me up with a fellatio?"

"..What?" The blonde slave gasped, his face beginning to grow hot as the man leered at him, "I… mean, yes… if you so wish my master of this hour."

Laughing to himself, Bakura picked up his clothes off the stone floor, placing his fitted pants on over his bare legs. "I would much rather prefer to know why exactly Lord Mariku sent you to me last evening… Unless he did not send you, and you were just curious as to what a white man looked like underneath his suit."

Malik sat silently, not responding to the questions posted at him. Bakura rolled his eyes, and strolled over to the small-framed boy. Bakura bit his lip, internally debating what more he could say to this boy. There was so much information that he had to keep away from this blasted monarchy, that choosing the right words to even speak around a slave was difficult.

"Do you have a name?"

Shuddering, the blonde answered "I am referred… to as.. slave…"

"I am nearly positive that would not be your name, unless your parents were terribly cruel and chose your occupation while in the womb." Bakura ran his fingers through his tangled mane, as he stared intently at the timid boy who sat at the edge of his bed. "What do the other servants call you?"

"They do not speak to me…. Or rarely do…" his voice dropping into the lightest of whispers "sometimes… they call me Malik.."

"Malik." Bakura repeated, tasting the word on his tongue. A beautiful name for a tempting male.

* * *

And should I continue? Its your decision!


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